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Told ya. But I don’t have the energy to talk anymore. I just want to be left alone on my bed, to curl up and sleep. I wanna be alone, goddammit.
I’ve had enough.
But it’s not happening.
“I’m staying with him,” Ocean says as Micah drags me toward the sofa. “Make sure he’s okay.”
“Don’t need you to stay,” I grouse, weaving on my feet. Damn, so dizzy. “’M fine.”
“Make him drink water,” Micah says, talking over my head as he lowers me down. “Eat crackers.”
“Ain’t got no crackers.” I glare up at Micah who blinks.
“I’ll go buy the goddamn crackers.” He huffs. “Man, did you hit your head or something? You’re acting weird.”
Did I…? I gape at him as he walks away, because the truth is, I’m not sure.
“Well, fuck you, too,” I mutter when I hear the door slam behind him, because I don’t know what to think.
“Is he always this grumpy?” Ocean drags a chair from the kitchen and sits on it backward.
“Just today,” Shane drawls.
“You motherfuckers done talking about me like I’m not here?” I twist on the sofa, trying to find a position that doesn’t hurt my leg, or my shoulder, or my elbows, or any of the million goddamn spots on my body that burn and ache. “Fuck off.”
“What’s going on, Seth?” Ocean asks, because he never gives up. Maybe his past is all unicorn farts and rainbows, and everything always ends up well. “Why don’t you come to Damage anymore? Your cast is off.”
“Yeah, I’m ready for the New York marathon. Can’t you tell?”
“No, but you can walk. You could last time you came out of PT. Why are you staying locked inside? What’s the problem?”
“No problem.” I glower at Shane, daring him to say anything about my knee, about my past. I double-dare you, cousin.
He says nothing.
Ocean sighs. “You can barely walk now. What happened? Are you going to physio?”
“He missed one session this morning,” Shane says. Always so helpful.
Yeah, well. I close my eyes and decide I’ve had enough of today. I’ll sleep this off and hope tomorrow is luckier.
Yeah, like that’s ever an option.
***
Someone is shaking me awake.
Again.
Goddammit, what’s wrong with these people? I twist and push whoever it is away from me. The twinge in my shoulder and the burning in my elbows and hands stops me short. I groan and blink my eyes open.
Big mistake. Pain stabs the back of my eyeballs. I fall back on the sofa and throw an arm over my face.
“Go away,” I hiss.
“Hey, tough guy. Talk to me.”
I lift my arm a fraction, startled. “Ash?”
